


Caught in Between

by MissNaya



Category: DCU
Genre: Daddy Kink, Double Penetration in One Hole, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Drunken Shenanigans, Exhibitionism, Fingerfucking, Flirting, Incest Kink, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Road Trips, Size Kink, Sneaking Around, Spanking, Third Wheels, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, brother kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 13:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12532700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNaya/pseuds/MissNaya
Summary: Dick, Jason, and Slade go cross-country in pursuit of a criminal they all have their sights set on. When Slade and Jason start to spend too much time together, Dick gets... frustrated.





	Caught in Between

**Author's Note:**

> day 4 of SladeRobin week! of the prompts "Threesome || Shapeshifters," I went with threesome ~~though there is a shapeshifter threesome on the way, too...~~
> 
> I guess I subconsciously got sad I missed day 1's daddy kink prompt, because there's some of that in here. also, I know it starts out as pretty Slade/Jason-centric, but I promise, they get some Dick eventually! pun absolutely intended.

They’re not flirting.

Despite Dick’s exasperated insistence, Jason doesn’t agree at all. It’s called  _ banter, _ something he thought Dick was pretty familiar with. Sure, he and Slade have been spending a lot of time together, standing a little close, but that’s just because they’re on the same side of the “what are we gonna do with this villain when we finally catch him” debate. Jason wants to kill him because of his little terror-spree that left a few hundred on the East Coast dead, Slade wants to kill him for the bounty, and Dick has been tagging along with them under staunch insistence that their target be convicted the proper legal way.

He’s such a killjoy.  _ That’s _ why Jason’s been sticking around Slade more than him, obviously.

Obviously.

They’ve been traveling cross-country for days now, sharing rooms at motels because Dick suspects that one of them will bolt if he isn’t around to keep an eye on them. And, yeah, Jason has passed out on the same bed as Slade a few times, but so what? That’s what happens when the shitty place off I-40 only offers two beds and no couches. He almost has to wonder if Dick is jealous, but he’s not sure which one of them he’d be jealous  _ of, _ so he abandons that thought pretty quickly.

Anyway, as absurd as it is, Jason can’t help but keep Dick’s comment in the back of his mind. Maybe it’s the booze making his thoughts drift, or maybe it’s his proximity to Slade, where they sit on one (thankfully queen-sized) mattress. Dick, as usual, is keeping his distance, at a scuffed little table near the foot of the bed where they’ve spread out all their liquor.

It’s been a rough week, okay?

Jason finishes his glass and leans over to plop it back on the table. When he bounces back in place, his thigh presses flush up against Slade’s.

“Hit me,” he says, the barest hint of a slur in his voice.

Dick, elbow on the table and cheek in his hand, doesn’t move. “I think you’ve had enough.”

“Bullshit! That was only my third!” He leans back on his hands and rolls out his shoulders, emphasizing how broad they are. “Dunno about you, skinny, but it takes a lot more than that to fuck me up.”

“You’re a lightweight,” Slade says over the rim of his glass.

Jason slaps his chest with the back of his hand. (Dude’s abs feel like fucking bricks.)

“Shut up. Seriously, Dick, pour me another. I wanna try that stuff we got back in Tennessee.”

“Hey.” Slade reaches out and roughly brushes a knuckle against his nose, tilting his face to the side. “Respect your elders, kid.”

Jason just slaps his hand away. “Gimme a break. Respect  _ you guys? _ Not on either one of my lives, pops.”

Slade snatches him up by the chin, lifting a bit, forcing Jason to arch his back to accommodate him.

“You’ve been a damn brat all day today,” he says. “Keep at it, and I’ll bend you over my knee.”

Behind them, Dick sighs audibly. Jason can practically hear his eyes rolling.

“If you guys are gonna do this again, can I leave first? I don’t need to see all that.”

“Do  _ what? _ ” Jason asks, slapping Slade’s hand away a second time. “Nobody’s gonna do shit.”

Slade just grabs his wrist and pulls, sending Jason sprawling face-first over his lap. He yelps and tries to sit back up, but Slade pins him with an elbow, drink still in hand like he’s confident he won’t spill a drop. He brings the other down on Jason’s ass three times in quick succession, a firm  _ slap-slap-slap _ pulled off with practiced ease.

Jason’s red in the face by the time Slade lets him up, and he can hear Dick groan out some sort of complaint, but he can’t hear him well over the rushing in his ears. All he can focus on is Slade’s almost predatory smirk.

“Next time, I’ll use my belt.”

* * *

 

Dick had tried to leave after that, but Jason beat him to it, retreating outside to smoke. The half-empty pack of cigarettes in his pocket is crumpled from months going ignored, and the cigarettes themselves are in no better condition. He doesn’t smoke much anymore, not like he did when he was a teenager, but every now and again something happens that makes him crave that unique brand of relaxation.

His hands shake as he flicks his lighter.

There’s still a bit of light in the sky out west, but it’s dark enough that the motel’s outdoor lamps have been switched on. For a few moments, the only sound comes from the pitter-patter of moths above him smacking at the glass, and his own heavy breaths.

“Stupid fucking grandpa,” he mutters on an exhale, billowing smoke into the humid Arkansas air. “Like I’m some kid. No wonder Rose can’t stand him… Hah,  _ ‘flirting.’ _ As if.”

He puffs on the cigarette a few more times, idly pacing back and forth on the motel’s sorry excuse for a patio. Still muttering indignantly, he runs a hand through his hair, willing his heart to stop beating so fast.

_ “Next time, I’ll use my belt.” _

Jesus fuck. What a bastard.

* * *

 

They all sleep separately that night: Slade and Dick on the two beds, Jason on the vaguely mildew-scented loveseat shoved against the far wall. He awakes in a sour mood, sore all over, and he only gets worse every time he looks over to see Slade totally ignoring him, like nothing ever happened.

Whatever. That’s fine. It’s not like Jason needs attention or anything. He’s gotten by on his own before, so why should he care what some douchebag assassin thinks? He tries to focus solely on the mission as the three of them stalk through town to try and gather info.

It doesn’t work. Not well, anyway. While part of his mind really is dedicated to trying to hunt down their killer, the other part, seemingly independent of the rest of him, is determined to rile Slade up any chance he gets.

“You look stupid in those sunglasses,” he mumbles at one point.

“Could you  _ be _ any slower?” he says at another, shouldering past Slade in the middle of a crowded store.

“Don’t mind him,” he says to a cute salesgirl Slade tries to chat up later. “Gramps here likes to think he can still score with people less than half his age.”

It’s only that last bit that earns him a sidelong look, one that Jason can  _ feel _ trail up from his toes and over his body. He suppresses a shudder, flashes a charming smile at the cashier, and follows along when Dick tugs at their shoulders to urge them out before they can cause a scene.

“I have a lead,” he mutters, walking between them. “But I’m gonna need to check it out myself.”

“That so?” Slade asks, staring straight ahead.

“Yeah. There’s this girl—”

“You got a date, Dickiebird?” Jason slings an arm around Dick’s shoulders and ruffles his hair. “Tryna have all the fun on your own? Cold.”

Dick rolls his eyes, but doesn’t make a move to get away. He usually doesn’t when Jason touches him; Jason suspects it’s because it’s so rare.

“It’s not like that,” Dick says. “But… Yes, it’s a date. You two stay out of trouble while I’m out, okay? I’m serious.”

“Aw, but Dick,” Jason says, grinning face dangerously close to Dick’s own. His eyes, however, are pointed at Slade. “Getting into trouble’s so much fun.”

* * *

 

The second he and Slade return to the room together, Jason can feel the air change. This time, he decides to be the one to ignore it, kicking off his shoes and emptying his pockets without looking back at Slade. He continues very pointedly not looking at him until he flops back on the far bed, arms stretched toward the headboard, something like a smile on his face.

“Well, I’m beat,” he says. “I’ll take the bed tonight.”

“No, you won’t,” Slade says, “and no, you’re not. Not yet, anyway.”

Jason cracks his eyes open only to see Slade slowly, pointedly pulling his belt out of its loops. His pulse quickens.

“Oh, hell no,” he says, scrambling up onto his knees. “No way. You can’t be serious, old man.”

Slade takes off his (stupid) sunglasses and crosses the room in a few long strides. Jason pivots in an attempt to run, but Slade catches him by the wrist before he can make it off of the bed. His grip is unwavering to the point of being almost painful, and Jason’s back goes rigid where he kneels.

They look each other in the eye, Slade’s expression unreadable, Jason’s bordering on the edge of petulant. He silently dares Slade to try something. Dares him to do more than just taunt and tease like they’ve been doing to each other this entire time.

When Slade sets a knee on the edge of the bed, Jason realizes Dick may have been right about the flirting after all.

“...Brat,” Slade says finally, throwing Jason down by the wrist.

The force of it is more than he’d been expecting, enough to make him flop face-first onto the mattress. Before he even stops bouncing, he can feel Slade’s hands around his waist, undoing his pants. He mumbles something in protest and reaches down to grab his wrists, but they both know he isn’t fighting anywhere near as hard as he’d be if he actually wanted it to stop. Slade’s able to tug his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion, trapping his legs in the bunched-up fabric.

“If you were my kid,” Slade says, pressing one strong palm between Jason’s shoulder blades, “you wouldn’t dare act like such a little prick.”

Jason squirms, but all he can do is get his hands up next to his face so he can ball them up in the rough motel covers. Already, he can feel his cock harden, trapped between his body and the bed.

He really does grin now, all sharp teeth and pink cheeks. “That make you my daddy?”

He wonders if that might be too far; if Slade, an actual father, might rear back in disgust. But Slade just trails the folded-up belt over his exposed ass. Jason exhales against the sheets.

“You can call me that,” he says, “if it helps.”

And with a flick of his wrist, he spanks Jason again.

It’s different this time. It’s so,  _ so _ much different. First off, a hand over his clothed rear feels nothing like a strip of leather against his bare skin. Second, he’s sober now, meaning every one of his senses are on high alert. Third, and perhaps most importantly, they’re alone.

No Dick to stop them.

Nobody to walk in on them.

Just himself, Slade, that belt, and the suffocating press of pent-up tension in the air.

Slade hits him again, and again, and each time, Jason feels like he sinks deeper into the mattress. He grips the blankets until his knuckles go white, muffling sharp whines against the pillows. The guy’s fucking  _ merciless, _ and Jason thinks in a mind clouded with pain and desire that, yeah, if he really was Slade’s kid, he probably wouldn’t be able to handle this all the time. But,  _ god, _ just this once, it feels alarmingly good.

Slade isn’t counting, and Jason can’t keep track of the time, so he doesn’t know how long it goes on until tears start leaking from his eyes and his whines turns into whimpers. He holds out for as long as he can, chest heaving, breath hot against his sweating face, but eventually he breaks and sobs.

“Stop, stop!” he cries, grinding his hips down into the mattress to get away. He’s still hard as a rock. “Stop, stop it, I can’t, I c-can’t—!”

To his surprise, Slade actually stops. He runs a hand down from his shoulders to his hips, then pushes Jason’s shirt up his sweat-drenched back.

“Hey,” he says. “You held out longer than I thought you would. Good job.”

Jason isn’t sure if it’s a side-effect of his ears ringing or if it’s really there, but he could swear Slade’s voice sounds more gruff than usual. Like there’s an edge to it he’s never quite heard before. That, combined with the praise, lifts up something in Jason’s chest he can’t explain.

He takes a second to catch his breath, but it does little good with how wired he is. Slade’s no longer holding him down like he was before, so Jason rolls over onto his back, trembling, ass lighting up with pain when it brushes against the sheets. His cock rests hot and heavy against his stomach, leaking precum onto his skin.

“W-w-wasn’t this s-supposed to be a punishment,” he asks, licking his lips, “d-daddy…?”

Slade’s eye darkens, pupil blown out under his hooded eyelid. Jason feels impossibly bare underneath him, even with his clothes still half-on. He feels like a meal, like Slade’s devouring him with just a look. It’s only reinforced when the pink tip of his tongue snakes out between his teeth, and he growls. Actually  _ growls _ , like an animal.

“Kid,” he says, and yeah, there’s a definite edge of breathlessness there. “You have got  _ no idea _ what you’re asking for.”

“Oh, please,” Jason says, recovering some of his bravado despite the chatter in his teeth. “You and I both know what I want; what  _ we _ want. D-don’t pretend like you’re not ready to give it to me.”

“Ask for it,” Slade growls. He slides his hands up Jason’s thighs and grips the tops of them as if preparing to pull him lower down the bed. “Let me hear you say it, boy.”

Jason exhales shakily, pulling his shirt up until most of his chest is on display. He trails his fingers over his nipples on the way, imagining Slade’s teeth sinking into them.

“Fuck me,” he says, voice barely a whisper. He licks his lips, swallows, and tries again, louder. “Stick your fucking cock in me and make me scream, daddy.”

Slade bends over and captures his lips in a bruising kiss, and Jason melts.

 

It’s a blur from there. He doesn’t know who strips who, but they end up naked and pressed together in record time. Jason barely has a chance to admire Slade’s broad chest, peppered with scars and white hair, before a finger shoves inside him and sets a bruising pace.

Slade sets a small bottle of lube on the mattress by his head before kissing him again. Jason wonders how long he’s had it, how long he’s known this was an inevitability. Sooner than Jason let himself believe it, no doubt.

Like his fingers, Slade’s kisses are fast and rough. Jason tries to keep up as best as he can, but Slade knows how to work his tongue in a way that leaves him a panting mess. It’s a display of dominance first and foremost. Almost everything about Slade is, from his imposing stature to his commanding attitude to the way he pushes Jason’s hips backward with every thrust of his fingers, the weight of his whole arm behind it.

By the time Slade has two fingers in him — no, maybe three — Jason is incoherent, mouth hanging open and drool sliding down his face while he moans shamelessly like a porn star. It’s genuine, though, every yelp, every sound; even if he wanted to stop himself, he doesn’t think he could, not with the way Slade pulls up roughly against his prostate with those broad, callused fingers.

He almost loses it, but Slade pulls his hand away just in time. There’s a wet sound as Slade lubes himself up, and then he pushes his entire length between Jason’s asscheeks.

“Oh, fuuuck,” Jason groans, head lolling to the side. He can’t tell how long Slade is — eight inches? Nine? — but he’s thick, he can feel it. “That’s not gonna fit. No fucking way.”

“It will,” Slade says, more dismissive than reassuring. “Relax.”

He starts to push in, but once the broad head breeches him, Jason presses a palm flat against Slade’s lower stomach.

“It won’t! Jesus fuck, oh my god—”

“You’re being dramatic. I’ve fucked smaller people than you.” Slade grabs his wrist and pushes forward, and Jason tosses his head back, mouth wide open. Over his keening whimper, Slade says, “ _ Relax, _ Jason. You were so greedy for it, you’re gonna take it.”

Slade’s cock is so much bigger than his fingers. Jason honestly doesn’t think he’ll fit, not without tearing something, but he still doesn’t try in earnest to get away. Sure, he tugs against his wrist where Slade has a hold of it, but the tension gives him something to focus on besides the pain. He gasps, back arched, and forces himself to look down as Slade’s cock disappears inside him.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Fucking shit, you’re huge.  _ Oh, _ fuck.”

Slade smirks in that infuriatingly handsome way of his. “Ever been with a man before, kid?”

Jason shakes his head. “N-not one that… big.”

He flushes even more as soon as he says it. Slade grins at the unintended compliment.

“Well, birdy, I’ll make it good for you, then.”

Jason wants to ask what he’d been planning on doing if his answer had been different, but Slade grabs his hips all of a sudden and pushes in a few more inches. Jason howls, flopping back against the pillows so hard that one of them falls off the bed.

“No,” he says, as Slade lifts his legs and pulls them toward his chest, sinking in deeper and deeper all the way. “ _ Ohhh, _ you bastard… Oh, fuck, wait—  _ Mmnwaitplease… _ ”

He feels the head of Slade’s cock crest over his prostate, and then Slade starts rocking his hips with shallow thrusts. The ridge under the head catches that spot over and over, slick and hard and huge, and Jason loses his breath, moaning despite the overwhelming pressure in his whole lower body.

“There you go,” Slade says with a gravel-deep voice. “That’s it. Like that. Open up for me, birdy. Take this whole thing for daddy…”

Jason whines helplessly at the term, grabbing at the displaced blankets. He doesn’t know why it makes him so hot, but he’s not about to psychoanalyze himself in the middle of the hottest sex he’s ever had. Slowly, subtly, he starts bouncing his hips in time with Slade’s thrusts, and it isn’t long before their combined efforts make him bottom out. When it happens, Slade stops, keeping Jason still with those broad hands on his hips.

“It fits,” he says with a smirk. Jason flips him off.

“You better fuck me.”

Slade doesn’t need to be told twice.

 

Fast and hard and so wet Jason’s hands slide off Slade’s back when he tries to wrap his arms around him, their sex is overwhelming. Jason’s mind blanks out for a time, and he knows nothing but Slade’s body, Slade’s scent, Slade’s intoxicating words at his ear. It’s gibberish, mostly, swearing and half-hearted encouragement not even suited for porn, about daddies and fitting and fucking his brat ass raw. Jason can’t focus on it; he just begs and screams and squirms, until eventually, he comes.

Slade keeps using him afterward like he didn’t even notice. Jason can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t form words to tell him to cut it out. He just lies there, eyes rolling into the back of his head, drool leaking from his open mouth, as Slade fucks into him with all the force you’d expect from a guy like him. He bites into his neck and scratches lines down his hips, and Jason thinks he’s coming again without even getting hard first, groin throbbing and legs twitching out of his control.

Slade only ever makes any noise close to a moan once, and even then, it’s more of a growl than anything. He stills when he does it, filling Jason with warm, sticky cum. His cock hurts on the way out, but Jason is too blissed-out to care.

He doesn’t even notice that he falls asleep like that.

 

Jason doesn’t know when they go from sleeping side-by-side to being awake again. At some point, it just sort of happens, Jason ribbing Slade for leaving him so sore, fishing a cigarette out of his pocket for Slade to smoke. They’re gonna get fined for smoking in the room, but he can’t bring himself to care.

It feels like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulders. Spent and satisfied, he no longer has to keep that what-if in the back of his mind, that thing that says “what if he doesn’t actually want you, what if you’re making an ass of yourself?” He and Slade can just relax and  _ be, _ content in the knowledge that this is a thing that happened, and it was fun, and now they’re fine.

He doesn’t even realize how late it is until he hears the door open.

He drops his phone and sits bolt upright, looking around, trying to think of a plan, but before he can, Dick steps into the room.

“—Oh.” He clears his throat, eyes baggy from a night out on the town, but still impossibly wide. “Uh. I’ll give you guys some time?”

Slade chuckles next to him, at which point Jason realizes he hasn’t even moved, arms behind his head, cigarette between his lips. The blankets ride low on his hips, and between that and his self-satisfied smirk, Jason can’t take looking at him for another second.

“No,” he says, slapping a hand over his hickeys, though he can’t do much for the bruises and scratch marks on the rest of his body. “No, we’re—  _ Shit _ — We’re done.”

He trips over discarded clothes and makes his way to the bathroom as quick as he can. With a  _ slam, _ the door cuts him off from the rest of the world for a little while longer.

 

He sleeps on the couch again that night, back turned to the others, arms wrapped around himself. He doesn’t know why he’s so upset; Dick obviously knew they were going to end up in bed eventually, and it isn’t like he hasn’t seen Jason naked before. Hell, Dick falls in bed with people all the time, and  _ that’s  _ perfectly fine.

But there’s something about being caught in such a state that has him on edge. Was it the evidence of his tryst in plain sight on his body? Slade’s cavalier attitude, an of-course-we-fucked like Jason never even had a choice in the matter?

Or was it something in Dick’s face when he looked at him?

Even though he stays up all night pondering it, Jason still doesn’t find an answer.

* * *

 

Turns out, Dick needs a bit more than just one date to milk his lead for all it’s worth. That means they have to stay in town for a few more days.

In that motel room.

With that bed.

Slade is finally paying attention to him again, flirting less, but occasionally he hits Jason with a stare or a grin that makes pleasant memories flash behind his eyes.

It takes less than three nights for Slade to come to him again. Well, “come to him” is a little misleading. He stops Jason on the way back from the bathroom in the middle of the night and tugs him silently down onto the bed.

Jason’s heart starts to pound right away. He feels like it’s the loudest thing in the world when Slade urges him down with a hand on his chest.

“You crazy?” he whispers. “Dick’s right there!”

True to his word, Dick is fast asleep, with his back turned to the pair of them. His chest rises and falls with slow, even breaths, but it just sounds like a ticking time bomb to Jason.

Slade pays him no mind, pulling the covers up to Jason’s chest. He says nothing, kissing a trail up his jaw, punctuated by a small nip. His hand, meanwhile, trails down under the blanket, finding Jason’s crotch.

He has to admit, he’s horny as fuck.

It feels like Slade is, too, hard cock pressing up against Jason’s side through thin sweatpants. Jason feels a swell of pride in his chest. Slade’s hard for  _ him. _ He was good enough in bed to make Slade crave more, even days after the fact.

He just wishes he’d chosen a better time.

Slade’s hand withdraws for a moment, and when it comes back, it’s wet. He worms it under Jason’s shorts and swirls a finger over his opening, and Jason uses all of his self-control not to gasp.

“Stop,” he whispers, low enough that even he hardly hears it. But his cock throbs, and Slade presses his finger in, sheathing it in Jason’s tight asshole.

He still says nothing, which Jason supposes is smart enough. Two people arguing back and forth would definitely wake Dick up. But, god, if Slade keeps moving his finger the way he does, Jason might just burst anyway.

He holds onto Slade’s wrist, feels the hair on his arm and the cock at his hip, and becomes undone again thinking about how impossibly masculine Slade is. Jason isn’t used to feeling small. At 6’0 and built almost entirely from muscle, few people can compare to him, but Slade blows him out of the water. His rough beard prods at the thin skin of Jason’s neck as he sucks at it, and Jason inhales slowly, drinking in the smell of musk all around them.

Slade adds a second finger, far more slowly than he did during their first encounter together. He rubs them in quick little circles against Jason’s prostate, and Jason lets out the smallest moan possible.

He turns his head. “Fuck you,” he whispers against Slade’s lips, before kissing him.

This is softer, though it still can’t pass for sweet. There’s a hunger behind all of Slade’s movements that Jason is helpless to, intoxicated by the idea of being wanted. He lets Slade do what he wants, spreading his legs as wide as he can with his pants half-off his hips. When a third finger presses inside him, he pulls Slade into an even deeper kiss, nostrils flaring.

Over the barely-perceptible squelching sound under the covers, Jason hears something else: a rustle of blankets. One that doesn’t come from their bed. He doesn’t dare speak, but he reaches down to grab Slade’s hand, trying to still his movements.

He doesn’t.

If anything, he moves  _ faster, _ and Jason curses his name to the high fucking heavens. Inadvertently, his hips start grinding down against Slade’s hand.

“Stop it,” he says, impossibly soft. This, he thinks, is the quietest he’s ever bothered to be in his life. “Fuck’s sake. He’s gonna fff-fucking—”

“He’s awake.”

They’re the only two words Slade says, equally soft against his ear, but they still manage to fill Jason with ice. He turns wide-eyed to look at Dick, but all he sees is his brother fast asleep in the same position he’d been in before. He shoots a questioning look back at Slade, but Slade just nods toward Dick, so Jason watches.

While Jason’s eyes adjust to the dark, Slade keeps fucking him with his fingers. The thought that Dick might be awake, choosing not to get up and tell them to cut it out for whatever reason, stirs something in his gut, and the next time Slade’s fingers swipe over his prostate, he lets out a breathy little moan.

There. In Dick’s shoulders. Barely-noticeable to the untrained eye, he tenses. When Jason strains to listen over the sound of wet fingers fucking his ass, he can tell the rhythm of Dick’s breath has been disrupted, too.

It might be his imagination, but Jason thinks he hears Dick make a tiny noise of his own.

That’s what sends him over the edge. He clamps one hand down over his mouth and digs the other into the junction of Slade’s neck and shoulder. Coming without anyone touching his cock is a new experience, but it’s so deep, so all-encompassing, that it nearly knocks him out. He feels it in every muscle, every bone, and by the time Slade pulls the last of it out of him by pampering him with those skilled fingers, Jason feels more relaxed than he ever has in his life.

* * *

 

Jason had gone so far as to slowly, quietly suck Slade off under the covers, but Dick had never made a move that night. He just stayed in that same rigid, still position until Jason creeped back to the loveseat.

Later, when he was just about to sink off into the oblivion of sleep, he thought he heard someone pad to the bathroom and close the door.

They try to act normal the next day, and to anyone on the outside looking in, they succeed. But Jason notices the way Dick ever-so-subtly avoids eye contact. More than once, he’s left staring at the back of Dick’s head, only to look up and catch Slade grinning at him from across the way.

To say it’s uncomfortable is an understatement. Jason spends the whole day trying to imagine what Dick must have been thinking, lying there while he and Slade went at it. Was he more shy than he let on, less confident about sex when someone else was having it? Was he disgusted, but either too tired or too charitable to tell them to knock it off? Or did it make him—

No. No, that’s ridiculous. Jason doesn’t even let himself finish the thought.

They get through the day without any more leads, and then it’s time for Dick to go off on another date. The thought makes something ugly roil in Jason’s chest, so he decides to go out for a few drinks instead of going straight back to the motel. Slade joins him, and though Jason teases him for it (“Can’t get enough of me, old man?”), he’s thankful for the company.

They make eyes at each other until Jason downs enough cheap rum to forget about why he’d been so on edge in the first place. He ends up in Slade’s lap, giggling like an idiot, and when the bartender shoos them off, Slade picks him up like he weighs nothing and takes him back to the room.

It’s dark when they get there. Jesus, how long had they been out? There were no clocks in the dark bar, just music and drunkards and stools hard enough to make the leftover bruises from his spanking ache. Needless to say, Jason’s more than happy to be deposited back onto the bed. It’s not the most comfy thing in the world, but it sure as hell beats wood.

The pleasant buzz in his head blocks out the realization that the lights in the motel room are already on when they get there. So focused on devouring Slade’s mouth, he doesn’t hear the shower running. He strips off his shirt and shoves down his pants, groaning as Slade kisses a hot line down his stomach toward his dripping cock.

He doesn’t hear the bathroom door open, but he  _ does _ hear the loud, abrupt, “Seriously?!” that comes out of Dick’s mouth when he walks out.

Jason sobers up near-instantaneously, sitting up to see Dick, clad in only a towel, standing at the foot of their bed. He gapes like a fish out of water, yanking his pants up just high enough to cover his straining erection.

“Dick,” he breathes. “Fuck. I didn’t— didn’t know you were here.”

“Yeah, right.” Dick rolls his eyes and turns away. In the split second before he does, he actually seems legitimately upset. “Just save it, okay? If you wanted me to watch, you should’ve just—”

“—asked you?”

It’s Slade who speaks up, his own heavy cock still hanging out of his pants like he hasn’t a care in the world. Again, Dick’s shoulders tense, and Jason can see him grip tighter at his arms where he has them crossed over his chest.

“That’s not what I— No.”

“Like you don’t like it,” Slade says with a snort.

He starts pushing Jason back down into the mattress. Jason relents, more out of surprise than anything. For some reason, with Dick here, he feels like a passenger in his own body. Slade’s wide palm smoothes down his stomach and takes hold of his cock. He shudders.

“Like you didn’t get off on hearing your baby brother come.”

Both of them react physically to that. Jason tosses his head back against the pillows, an “Oh,  _ fuck _ ” on his lips, and Dick gasps, then immediately spins around to stare at Slade with accusatory eyes. All the fire bleeds out of them, though, when he sees Slade start to pump Jason’s cock in his fist.

“Th-that’s not— I— Stop that,” he says, in that prissy, I’m-the-boss voice of his. Hearing it now, like this, is impossibly erotic. Jason squeezes his eyes shut.

“Come over here and make me,” Slade says with a dismissive roll of his shoulder, before bending over to lick a long stripe up Jason’s cock.

Jason wants to say something about being used like a pawn, but instead, he just presses the heel of his palm to his mouth. Above them, Dick gapes.

“Y-you can’t just— You— Hey!” Though Jason can’t see his face, he can hear it in Dick’s voice: he isn’t used to being ignored. “Slade, I’m not done talking to you!”

“Well, I’m done listening,” Slade says. “I don’t have the patience to hold your hand for you, princess. Nut up or shut up.”

“Asshole,” Jason says. Slade kisses lower, under his balls, lifts his leg and swipes a tongue over his perineum— “Not what I meant, nnh…!”

Dick is silent, but Jason can still feel him there, standing at the foot of the bed. He cracks open his eyes and risks a glance. Dick is tense, arms still crossed, fingers digging into his skin so hard that little white patches blossom under them. His eyes are locked toward where Slade kneels between his legs, tongue lapping at Jason’s twitching hole.

When he notices the tent in Dick’s towel, Jason throws his head back and moans.

“Oh Jesus, fuck me,” he pants, though he’s not sure who he’s asking. “Fuck me.  _ Fuck me.  _ C’mon, ah—!”

“ _ Jason, _ ” Dick says, breathless. He looks terrified to have said it, like he’s done something unspeakable, but it just makes Jason ten times hotter.

“Dick,” he says in response, and, licking his lips, gathers up as much bravado he can manage with a villain currently tongue-deep inside his asshole. “You better get your pretty ass over here before I fucking lose it.”

Between his legs, Slade chuckles.

Dick stammers, still hesitant like the fucking golden boy he is. Jason puts up a hand to shush him, then beckons him forward. Bizarrely, that seems to do the trick; almost like he’s hypnotized, Dick crawls onto the bed, letting his towel fall as he goes.

Slade pulls his tongue out of Jason’s ass with an embarrassing wet sound. “Good boy.” He looks Dick up and down, that hungry expression back in his eyes, and says, “Lay down. On your front.”

Even with his hard cock on full display, Dick doesn’t back down. Face red and features tight, he doesn’t move. “Just because I agreed doesn’t mean I’m your— Hey!”

When Slade locks Dick’s arm behind his back and pushes him face-first into the mattress, Jason has to laugh. It’s a little bit mean, but honestly, he’s wanted to do the same thing to Dick for years now.

Uh, the shutting-him-up part. Not the pinning-him-to-a-bed part. Definitely.

Just like when Jason first found himself under Slade, Dick squirms, but Slade wastes no time burying his face between Dick’s perfect asscheeks. All of Dick’s protests die off on his tongue, and Jason revels in his expression: brows arched, eyes shut lightly, mouth open in an O shape.

God, he’s perfect.

The wet smacking sounds Slade makes as he eats Dick out are positively obscene. They can’t hold a candle, though, to the sounds Dick makes, little breathless moans on the tail end of exhalations that make his whole body heave.

Jason licks his lips. Before he even has time to think about it, he asks, “You ever been eaten out before, Dickiebird?”

Dick shakes his head helplessly from side to side, like he can’t bring himself to shut his mouth for even a second.

“That’s a fucking crime.” He reaches down and tugs at one of Dick’s asscheeks, spreading it open wider to give Slade better access. He watches the wet, pink mass of his tongue slide over Dick’s hole before dipping inside. “Oh, fuck, daddy, do it like that. Let ‘im ride your fucking face.”

He doesn’t know what’s come over him, honest. He doesn’t even realize he let slip that taboo pet name until after, when Dick stares up at him with wide, blown-out eyes.

“Dah… Daddy…?” he asks, but before Jason can struggle to put together an answer, Slade sits up and slaps Dick’s ass, so loud that it cracks through the air like a gunshot.

“That’s right,” he says in that deeper voice of his, the one Jason’s come to associate with sex. “Good boy.”

Dick moans helplessly. Jason sympathizes. Slade can be absolutely overwhelming when he tries. When he yanks on Jason’s arm and steadies him behind Dick, Jason thinks,  _ case in point. _

“Eat your brother out,” Slade whispers against Jason’s ear.

Jason doesn’t have to be told twice.

Dick’s hole is twitching and dripping wet. There’s a slight tremble in his thighs that he can only describe as adorable. He runs his hands up the backs of them, letting them come to rest on the swell of Dick’s ass. He squeezes him, then leans down, first kissing one cheek, then the other.  _ Dick Grayson’s _ ass… Christ, it really is as amazing as everyone says it is.

Jason lingers there for a second, teasing Dick with hot breath over his little pink hole. Then he licks, tasting Slade, and Dick practically melts underneath him.

“Oh my god,” he pants. “Oh god, Jason, where the hell’d you learn to—  _ ah! _ — do that?”

“Your brother’s quite a little slut,” Slade says conversationally. He grabs Dick by the hair, lifting his head until he can settle himself between Dick and the headboard. “I see where he gets it from.”

“Fuck y—  _ Mmmfgh _ .”

Jason doesn’t need to look up to know what Dick’s mouth is currently occupied with. For all his talk, it doesn’t sound like Dick puts up a lot of a fight. He hears slurping and sucking and low, muffled moans, and it doesn’t take long before Dick’s rocking back against his face, grinding in slow little circles over his tongue.

He could eat Dick out for days, he thinks, without needing a single thing in return.

Whether fortunately or unfortunately, he doesn’t get that far. Slade says his name like a military general, and despite himself, Jason pulls back and sits up on his haunches.

Drool smeared all over his face, he says, “Yeah, daddy?”

Slade tosses him the (half-empty) bottle of lube. “Fuck your brother for me. Get him nice and loosened up.”

Dick tries to pull off of Slade’s cock, but a hand on the back of his head ensures he stays put. He whimpers instead, but from the way he sticks his ass out and spreads his legs even wider, Jason figures he isn’t against the order.

Still, Jason wouldn’t be Jason if he was  _ too _ obedient. He presses kisses to the small of Dick’s back and mutters, “Who made  _ you _ king of the threesome?”

“Please,” Slade says, lazily pulling Dick’s head up and down on his cock. “I’m the only one willing to get anything done around here. If it were up to you two, you’d play chicken until your balls burst.”

Jason huffs. Mostly because Slade’s right.

“Now,” Slade continues, and again, Jason hears the echoes of his former military days in his tone. “Stop pretending you haven’t been dreaming about this for god knows how long, get on your knees, and fuck. Your. Brother. You understand me?”

A shudder runs down Jason’s spine. Under his lips, Dick’s reaction is much the same. He locks eyes with Slade, slowly but surely straightening up.

“Yes, daddy.”

 

Dick’s tight. Fuck, Dick is  _ so tight.  _ Jason had fingerfucked him until he was all but sobbing, and still, he feels like his cock is gonna fall off with one errant twitch.

“Shit, Dickie,” he says, ever-so-slowly pushing in. “How’s that feel?”

Slade currently has Dick’s head cradled in the crook of his thigh, petting his hair while Dick pants against his length. He stops licking long enough to say, “So good, Jay, so  _ good… _ ”

“You full? Am I filling you up?”

“Not yet,” Slade interrupts. “Give ‘im more. He can take it.”

Jason licks his lips, looking from Dick to Slade and back again. When Dick gives him the tiniest nod, Jason rocks his hips, sheathing himself even deeper for just a second before he pulls back out. The noise Dick makes is heavenly, a whining keen that gets Slade’s cock twitching against his mouth.

“That’s right.” Slade shifts up until he’s kneeling, and Dick follows him, mouth hanging open. He pushes into the waiting heat, threading his fingers through Dick’s hair. “I’m not gonna be that gentle, so don’t go easy on him. Won’t do him any favors.”

The thought of Slade fucking Dick silly makes Jason’s cock twitch, but it’s Dick’s moan that really sells it for him. A part of him wants to be jealous, but another, louder part can’t help but imagine himself fucking Dick’s face while Slade takes him from behind, and the idea of those pretty blue eyes looking up at  _ him _ when he comes makes it all worth it to Jason.

He speeds up, skin slapping against skin as he bottoms out over and over again. Dick’s body rocks between the two of them, shining with sweat and spit and lube.

_ He’s gonna have to shower all over again, _ Jason catches himself thinking.

He’s so transfixed by Dick’s  _ everything _ that he doesn’t notice Slade pull out of his mouth until Dick starts talking.

“Oh, god… Oh,  _ fuck. _ More, I want more, I want…  _ Nnngh! _ ”

“What do you want, princess?” Slade asks, cupping one of Dick’s cheeks sweetly while he drags his cock across the other. “Tell us what you want us to do.”

It seems like, for a split second, the hesitation from before re-emerges. Dick squeezes his eyes shut and pants, like he’s second-guessing himself. But one particular roll of Jason’s hips has him coming undone, like he’s just hit some switch inside him.

“ _ Both, _ ” he whines. “Both, I want both, I w-want— G-god, I want both of you inside me…!”

“ _ Fuck, _ Dickie,” Jason says. He has to dig his nails into Dick’s skin to try and steady himself. “No fuckin’ way. No way you can take all that.”

Dick must take it as a challenge, because he presses back against Jason and rolls his hips in intoxicating little circles. “Can, I can—  _ Please, _ guys, you’re driving me  _ crazy…! _ ”

“Look at that face,” Slade coos, almost insultingly patronizing. “How can I say no to a face like that?”

Dick glances over his shoulder at Jason, bangs plastered to his face with sweat, lips plush and almost pouting.

How can anyone say no to Dick Grayson?

 

Getting in position is tricky. They end up with Slade on his back, Dick on top, and Jason on his knees between Slade’s legs. Everything is dripping with lube, but even then, Dick already looks impossibly stretched out with just half of Slade’s cock in his ass. Jason is still of the opinion that there’s no fucking way this is gonna work.

“There’s no fucking way this is gonna work,” he says to Dick’s back.

“You’re gonna try or you’re gonna be left out,” Slade tells him.

Jason huffs and goes to fire back, but Dick turns, smiling at him over his shoulder. He reaches up and cups Jason’s face, pulling him in for a surprisingly gentle kiss. When they part, the way Dick looks at him makes his heart jump around in his chest.

“It’s alright, Little Wing,” he says. “You won’t hurt me.”

Jason stares at him for a few seconds more, licks his lips, then nods.

“O-okay,” he says. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

The hardest part is trying to get his cockhead inside. He slips several times, getting redder with each failure. Dick reaches back and pats his leg in encouragement, shushing him when he curses. Eventually, though, he finds just the right spot, and slowly, achingly, begins to slide inside.

Barely an inch in, he can safely say he’s never felt anything so intense before in his fucking life. The combination of Dick’s soft ass and the hard, rigid length of Slade’s cock make him want to come then and there, but he keeps on for Dick’s sake. And, god, he can’t  _ imagine _ how it must feel for him, so full and getting stretched wider with each passing second.

“ _ Jason, _ ” Dick moans, forehead pressed into Slade’s chest. “Oh, my god. Oh, my god.”

Jason peppers his sweat-slick back with kisses. “Alright, babe? Too much?”

He feels Dick shake his head more than he sees it. “Keep going.”

Even Slade looks far gone, brow furrowed, jaw set in a hard line. Jason suspects they’re both thinking much the same thing: how the hell did they get Dick Grayson in a position like this, begging for both their cocks?

It feels like ages before Jason finally sheathes his entire cock in Dick’s ass. It throbs hot and hard against Slade’s, and, god, there’s so much pressure, he has no idea how long he’s gonna last. But then Dick says “ _ Move, _ ” and Jason resolves to hold on for as long as possible.

They writhe more than they thrust, Jason careful not to slide back out, Slade trapped under the weight of the pair of them. Eventually, they figure out a rhythm where one of them pushes forward while the other pulls back, and then,  _ then _ it’s truly blissful.

Dick moans and whines and yelps between them, unable to move, completely at their mercy. He drools all over Slade’s chest, looking for all the world like he doesn’t know how to react to such overwhelming pleasure. One look at that face has Jason fucking him harder, digging his teeth into the meat of his shoulder.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god…” Dick squirms between them and sobs. “Oh my god, daddy, baby brother, fuck me, fuck me,  _ fuck _ me, fuck your pretty little Dickie, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon—”

“Good birdies,” Slade pants, tossing his head back, digging his nails into Jason’s hands where they hold Dick’s hips. “Mmn, that’s it…”

Jason can’t say anything but “Dick, Dick, Dick, Dick,  _ Dick, Dick, Dick— _ ”

He’ll never be sure which one of them comes first, but it sets off a chain reaction that ripples through them all. It feels like it takes forever to finish, like every time he thinks he’s done, Dick’s ass milks him some more. Hands grip at him and lips kiss fingers and cocks grind, until eventually, finally, they all wind down, bodies drenched with sweat and cum.

Dick whimpers when Jason and Slade pull out. Jason tries to make up for it by kissing every inch of skin he can reach, arms locked tight around Dick’s middle. Even Slade pets his hair as a small comfort.

Thinking back, Jason finally admits to himself that Slade hadn’t been the only person he’d been flirting with this trip.

**Author's Note:**

> I talk about more filthy trash on my [tumblr!](https://dicktofen.tumblr.com/)


End file.
